


Tea

by EmmaSpencer



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Accidental meeting, Back to Sherrinford, Car Ride, Eurus is the oldest, FInding his family, Gen, Greg teaches him, Greg's helpful, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Meet the Family, Mycroft get attached quickly, Mycroft in the need of help, Mycroft is a little slave, Mycroft is out in the world, Mycroft is the youngest, Mycroft not too well, Mycroft runs away, On the Run, Pre-Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Psychological maipulation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Running Away, SHe found me, She still have her 'powers', Sherlock To The Rescue, Sherlock changed his mind, Tea, Tea tea and tea, Torture, alternative universe, everything is new, sherrinford
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-22 23:34:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13774959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaSpencer/pseuds/EmmaSpencer
Summary: "It's not only your sister who can make people do things.""Why do you say that?""You look like someone who ran away from a mental institution; then you say you were locked up for murder but I took you home.""I didn't mean to persuade you to do so; I can leave.""And where would you go? Where were you planning to go in the first place?"Greg found the lost Mycroft on the street, after consideration he took him home. Finding out that he spent his life closed up in a cell almost knowing nothing about being human. He tries to help him find his family, only to be found by the people Mycroft run away from. They try to run and hide but nothings works, landing them both back in Sherrinford.





	1. Chapter 1

Greg was on his way home when he saw a group of kids kicking something on the ground.  
"Hey!" he yelled, they quickly disappeared. He went closer and on the ground he saw a young man curled up covering his head.  
"Are you all right?" he knelt next to him; he sat up and quickly crawled away from him. He was dressed in black scrubs; he looked at Greg with fear and curiosity. "Are you all right?" Greg repeated it. "Mycroft? Can you hear me?" he read his name tag.  
"I can." he whispered.  
"Good, can you tell me where you live?"  
"No, I don't want to go back; I don't."  
"Okay, okay. Why don't you come with me to the police station and we can talk there."  
"No, they'll get me back. I don't want to go back!" he yelled. Greg took out his phone, but Mycroft was quickly on him and took the phone crashing it on the ground. "I won't go back there, I won't; you can't make me!"  
"Could you let go of me?"  
"Sure." he sat next to him.  
"Thanks." he picked up the remains of his phone with a sigh. "How about we go to the hospital?"  
"Couldn't you understand what I was saying?" he was shaking. "I don't want to go back to them. Please don't make me."  
"Do you have somewhere to go?" Mycroft looked around. "Okay." Greg stood up and extended his arm to pull him up, but Mycroft cried out and crawled further from him. "Sorry, no touching then." he just realised that he didn't have shoes. "I live close by, you could come with me." Mycroft followed Greg keeping a safe distance from him. "We are home." Greg opened the door and stepped aside to let him in. "You can sit down to the sofa." Mycroft looked around the flat hesitantly. "Please sit." Mycroft sat to the floor by the wall. "You can sit on the sofa." but he didn't move. "All right." Greg sighed and disappeared into the kitchen. He came back with two mugs putting one of them in front of Mycroft; he sat down in safe distance from him.  
"What is it?" Mycroft stared at it with suspicion.  
"Tea."  
"Tea?"  
"Yes, haven't you heard of it?"  
"I heard, but never drunk it."  
"Try it then, be careful it's still hot." Mycroft took a cautious sip from it. "Well?"  
"I like it."  
"Good. Could you tell me why are you sitting on the floor?"  
"Because I have to."  
"I see. Who told you that?"  
"Dr. M, and everybody else." Greg looked at him curiously as he drunk the tea "Could I get more?"  
"Sure." Greg took the mug from him carefully not to touch him. "There you go." he put it in front of him.  
"Thank you. What is your name?"  
"Greg Lestrade, yours?"  
"Mycroft."  
"Your last name?"  
"I don't remember."  
"Well it's nice meeting you Mycroft."  
"Likewise Gregory."  
"How long have you been there?”  
"Almost all my life, I was three when they took me."  
"And how old are you now?"  
"Seventeen."  
"Your parents?"  
"Dead, or so they say."  
"Any siblings?"  
"Two, I have a sister and a brother. My sister came to see me from time to time."  
"And you think that she's been lying about your parents."  
"Yes. She was the one who killed Victor not me, but everybody believed her. She can make people believe everything, they do everything she asks."  
"So they took you because she told them that you killed someone."  
"Yes."  
"Okay." Greg answered hesitantly.  
"What's wrong?"  
"It's not only your sister who can make people do things."  
"Why do you say that?"  
"You look like someone who ran away from a mental institution; then you say you were locked up for murder but I took you home."  
"I didn't mean to persuade you to do so; I can leave."  
"And where would you go? Where were you planning to go in the first place?"  
"Away, I have a brother he might help."  
"What is his name?"  
"I don't know." he whispered.  
"Your sisters?"  
"Nor that."  
"So she visited you, but you don't know her name."  
"No, I have to call her Ma'am."  
"How do you know that she is your sister?"  
"She called me brother mine. Could I get more tea?" Greg chuckled; Mycroft looked at him with fear.  
"What’s wrong?"  
"Nothing." he whispered.  
"Something is, please tell me so I can help."  
"It's just...the only time I heard laughter was when the guards came to 'play' with me."  
"What do you mean by that?" Greg asked fearing the answer.  
"They liked beating me up, or making me do things and laughing during it."  
"What kind of things?"  
"I don't want to talk about it now."  
"Sorry, I only laughed that how quickly you got to like tea."  
"Is it bad?"  
"No; there is nothing wrong with it don't worry. Be right back." Greg took the mug.  
"I make you a pot before I go to work, I work night today." he gave it back to him.  
"What do you do?"  
"Well..."  
"I should warn you that there is no point in lying to me."  
"I'm a policeman." Mycroft dropped the mug and tried to get as far from Greg as he could. "I'm not going to tell anyone, promise. You said you can see if I lie, so look at me. I'm not going to take you back to them; I'm not going to mention you to anyone." Mycroft slowly nodded. "You are bleeding." Mycroft looked at his hand; he had a piece of the mug stuck to his palm. "I get bandages." Greg sat back. "Can I come closer?"  
"I...I don't know."  
"I just want to clean the wound and bandage it."  
"You want me to come closer then."  
"It would help." Mycroft looked at him hesitantly. "What is it Mycroft?"  
"I'm not used to people asking me, they usually order me and I have to obey."  
"Well now I'm asking; so?"  
"I don't know, I don't know." Mycroft repeated, clutching his head between his hands. Greg saw that something wasn't right with Mycroft, he kept mumbling, his eyes went blank, his breathing quickened.  
"Mycroft, please listen to me!" Mycroft fell silent. "Come here." Mycroft sat closer. "Your hand...the other one." Greg took his hand, cleaned and bandaged the wound; Mycroft didn't give out a sound during it. "There, I'm sorry Mycroft." Mycroft didn't look at him. "Please Mycroft, please look at me." Mycroft looked up staring at him with blank eyes. "Mycroft? Would you like more tea?" he didn't answer. "All right I make you more. Do you want to take a shower?" there was still no answer; Greg sighed. "Fine." he went to his room and looked for a pyjama and towel. "Here, that is the bathroom." Greg found him a few minutes later sitting in front of the bathroom door. "What's wrong?" Mycroft just stared at his feet and mumbled something. "Sorry I don't understand that."  
"I don't know how to use the shower."  
"I show you, come on. How did you bathe before?"  
"Once a week I was hosed down with cold water if I was lucky." Greg just sighed, he rather not answered to that. "Well then that is the warm and this is the cold tap, you turn on the warm first...do it." Mycroft turned it. "Now you turn the cold until you find the temperature to your liking." Mycroft did it with great concentration. "Shower gel, you know how to use it?"  
"That I can figure."  
"Okay, when you finished you turn them off."  
"Thank you."  
"When was the last time you ate?"  
"Two days ago." Mycroft was already out of his clothes; Greg quickly covered his eyes. "What's wrong Gregory?"  
"Usually we don't get naked in front of strangers."  
"I'm sorry."  
"Don't tell me you had to get undressed in front of them."  
"I did, sometimes for days. You can look now." Greg took his hand away. Mycroft wrapped the towel around himself, it covered most of him, but Greg could see scars and bruises on his limbs, shoulder and around his neck.  
"Oh..."  
"Still not enough?"  
"No, just your injuries."  
"It's nothing." he shrugged.  
"We can argue about that. Now, I leave you and make something to eat; come out when you are finished. Clean clothes." he pointed at the pyjama. 

 

"Gregory?" Mycroft came out of the bathroom.  
"Kitchen." Mycroft didn't come in, so Greg went to look for him, he was again sitting in front of the door. "You can come in, we eat here anyways." Mycroft stood up, but didn't move. "Come on, you need to eat." he followed Greg to the kitchen. "Please sit to the table." he pulled out a chair for him. "We normally eat here." Mycroft sat down; Greg put the plates to the table. "Enjoy." he sat down too. Greg started to eat, he looked at Mycroft who wasn't. "What is it?"  
"Knife." Greg felt fear for the first time since Mycroft was here, so he quickly took it away.  
"Ahmm, what's wrong with the knife?" he asked hoping he won't hear the fear in his voice.  
"You are scared of me."  
"Sorry, I just don't know why you acted like this seeing the knife."  
"I was trained to use anything as a weapon, they never gave me any cutlery. I'm not going to hurt you, only if you give reason for it."  
"Thanks for the warning." Greg put the knife back. "Fork and knife. Fork in left hand, knife in right; see!"  
"Yes." Mycroft took them clumsily.  
"You cut the chicken like this, and you can get the rice on your fork like this."  
"I'm sorry, so sorry." Mycroft dropped everything, pulling his legs up and buried his face.  
"It's okay Mycroft, nothing happened."  
"I made a mess, I'm so sorry."  
"It can be cleaned up. Please I'm not going to hurt you because of it, promise." by the time Mycroft looked up Greg cleaned it up and cut everything for him. "Here a spoon, it'll be easier for now. You'll learn it with time, don't worry." Mycroft still managed to get half of it out; he wouldn't stop repeating that he was sorry, looking at Greg with fear.  
"Would you like some more?"  
"No."  
"Just because you can't use the spoon, or you are not hungry anymore?"  
"I'm not hungry." Greg put a mug in front of him.  
"Tea." he smiled at him. "I make your bed."  
"My what?"  
"Don't tell me you slept on the floor."  
"Where else would I?"  
"Well now you'll sleep on the sofa." Greg came back dressed up for work. "Toothbrush, you know what to do with it?"  
"Yes."  
"I show you your bed; come. So this is it; please sleep here and not on the floor; please. Pillow, blanket, there is another one if you're cold. You already know where the bathroom is. I know it's early so you can...oh."  
"What is it?"  
"I wanted to say that you can watch the tv, but that might not be a good idea."  
"Why?"  
"I don't want to overwhelm you, you had a lot to take in for today."  
"You are probably right."  
"I can give you a book if you'd like?"  
"I...don't know."  
"You know how to read?"  
"Of course, and I read a lot, that was one of the things I was allowed to do. I’m just tired."  
"You should sleep then, I wait till you get settled; I come home in the morning.” He waited as he promised. "You look cold." he covered Mycroft with the other blanket.  
"Thank you."  
"Tea is in the kitchen, drink as much as you like. Will you be all right on your own?” Mycroft nodded.  
"What do you want in exchange for all of this?"  
"Nothing."  
"Nothing?"  
"Why, what did they want?" Mycroft shrugged.  
"It depends who was it."  
"For example?"  
"Doing their accounting, winning online poker games, writing essays for their kids, various kinds of sexual acts, cleaning shoes, repairing clothes, figuring ways they can scam others..."  
"Well I want nothing. Now try to sleep, see you in the morning." Greg left him with heavy heart. This short time was enough for him to realise that something wasn't right with Mycroft, something did really happened to him. He just couldn't wrap his mind around it, who could do a thing like this to a child.


	2. Chapter 2

Mycroft was up when Greg came home.  
"Morning, couldn't sleep?"  
"I was always woken by now."  
"So why didn't you get up?"  
"Can I?"  
"Well of course."  
"Can I use the bathroom?"  
"You don't have to ask Mycroft."  
"Thank you."  
"Breakfast in the kitchen." Greg called after him.  
Mycroft stood hesitantly by the chair.  
"Sit please."  
"Eating again?"  
"Every time I hope it can't get worse you say something." Greg sighed. "How often have you got food?"  
"Usually once a day; sometimes nothing for days."  
"Hmmm, I don't want to upset your stomach, but you have to eat a little; toast and tea at least. I usually eat three times and sometimes a few more snacks." Mycroft ate in silence.  
"What do I have to do today?"  
"What do you want?"  
"I...I'm not sure."  
"You got away from them for a reason, don't you?"  
"I wanted it to end."  
"No further plans?"  
"No, just getting out of there."  
"Is it here in London?"  
"No, they brought me here; because I had to do something for my sister...I don't really remember how I got away from them."  
"How many people were with you on this trip?"  
"Four."  
"Your sister one of them?"  
"No; only the guards, I ran away before meeting her."  
"Yesterday you mentioned your brother."  
"Yes."  
"Do you know anything about him?"  
"Not much, I was young when I last see him. I remember his blue eyes and black hair. I know he wanted a dog but dad was allergic so he went over to Victor's every day. They had a black Labrador."  
"Any names?"  
"Sorry."  
"Well I wanted to look for you in the system, but I figured if they are looking for you I would drew attention with my search."  
"Certainly, thank you."  
"Now, I go and sleep a bit and you think about your family, the events before you left and write down anything you remember; or you can sleep too, or read anything you like. It's up to you."  
“I think I try thinking about them.”  
“Okay, I get you paper and pencil. What kind of book do you want?” Greg stood in front of the bookshelf.”  
“I don’t know.”   
“Come here and chose one.” Mycroft hesitantly stepped next to him. “Point at one at random.” Greg suggested seeing Mycroft anxiously scanning the shelf.  
“Okay.” he closed his eyes and pointed at one.  
“Let’s see…good?”  
“It’ll be fine, I read it already.”  
“You can always decide to read another, even if I’m not here. You don’t have to ask for permission to eat, to drink, to go to the bathroom.”  
“What for should I ask permission?”  
“Ahmm…I can’t think of anything now.” Greg smiled at him. “I have only one request; please don’t run away. That would make me really worried. I’m not keeping you captive, but you’ve never been out, they are looking for you…this would be better for now.”  
“That I can promise.” Mycroft settled on the sofa. “Do you have a blanket too?” Greg chuckled.   
“Yes, promise.”  
“But I have two.”  
“I show you, come.” Greg opened the bedroom door. “See? And here is one more.” he opened the wardrobe. “Also I have enough clothes, no worries.”  
“I just don’t want you to…” he mumbled.  
“It’s not a trouble for me.” Greg smiled reassuringly. “Promise.”  
“I let you sleep then.” Mycroft quickly disappeared.

Greg slept through the day; he woke up when Sherlock opened the door.  
"Your boyfriend is weird."  
"What?"  
"He's in the kitchen hiding under the table."  
"Oh...OH!" he sat up when he saw the time. "Mycroft, I'm so sorry." he knelt in front of him. "Sorry, I overslept. Don't worry he is Sherlock, I trust him. Please come out." Mycroft looked at them with fear, tightly clutching the papers. "Please, have you eaten anything?"  
Mycroft shook his head. "Drink?" he nodded. "The tea I left you." he nodded again. "Okay, now go and take a shower and I make you more tea and something to eat." Mycroft climbed out and handed the papers to Greg. "Thank you."  
"What's wrong with him?"  
"He just came out of the hospital; he has no one; so I took him in."  
"Brain damage?"  
"Something like that." Greg put the papers down and started to make dinner. "What do you want Sherlock?"  
"New case?"  
"Nothing I can't handle."  
"Where did you get this?" Greg turned to face him, Sherlock was looking at a paper with a strange expression.  
"Mycroft drew them. Actually there is one thing you could look up."  
"I'm not your secretary."  
"Young boy named Victor. He was murder or maybe just missing. It happened 14 years ago, but I don't know where."  
"And?"  
"That's all; I figured it might interest you."  
"Nope."  
"Okay." Greg heard noises from the bathroom. "I better check him." Greg knocked on the door. "Mycroft are you all right? Can I come in?" there was no answer so he went in. Mycroft was sitting in the corner.   
"Please I didn't mean to, I'm so sorry."   
"It's nothing Mycroft, just water."  
"Please..."  
"I promise I won't hurt you, now please get dressed and I show you how easily it can be cleaned up."   
Together they went back to the kitchen but there was no sign of Sherlock.  
"Sorry about Sherlock. He...he's just like that, I have no better words for it. He calls himself a consulting detective, which means he likes to poke his nose to my cases, and I let him from time to time; he is useful. He was looking at your papers." Greg looked trough them too. "You draw really well. A lake, a well, dog and this?"  
"Dr. M."  
"I see. A house, a violin."  
"My brother and sister played it."  
"And you?"  
"Piano."  
"When was the last time you played?"  
"I could play when my sister was in a good mood. Do you play anything?"  
“A bit of guitar, self taught so nothing good.”  
“Will you show me?”  
“I can bring it out.” he fetched the guitar. “But I’m not sure I can play anything, haven’t done it in a year…or more.” Mycroft took it from him turning it around his hands. “The other way My.” Greg turned back to finish dinner. “Are you sure you never played?” he turned back hearing Mycroft play perfectly.  
“I am.”  
“This is beautiful, what piece it is?”  
“I wrote it.”  
“You did what?”  
“I wrote it.” Mycroft whispered.  
“You learned to play a guitar in two minutes and composed a piece.”  
“I’m clever.”  
“Well you are.” Greg smiled widely at him. “Really beautiful, could you play it again?”  
“Okay.” Mycroft played it again, by the time the last accord died off the dinner was ready.  
"Here you go." Greg put a plate in front of him. Mycroft took the spoon and finished his dinner without any complication; Greg smiled at him.  
"I learn fast."  
"I figured. How did you eat before?"  
"My hands; they didn't give me anything in case I'd hurt them."  
"Has it happened?" he asked hesitantly.  
"Yes, I tried to get away from them several times."  
"What do you want to do tonight?"  
"What will you do?"  
"I planned to cook and do the laundry in the afternoon so I can go out in the evening; but I overslept...so I do those now."  
"Need me to help?"  
"I can show you how to do it, I figure you haven't done any of them before."  
"No."  
"Let's get started then."


	3. Chapter 3

Mycroft was sitting on the sofa, reading when the door opened. He turned expecting Greg, but it wasn't him; he looked at the newcomer with fear.  
"Why did you draw that house?" Sherlock stepped in front of him.  
"Because Gregory told me to."  
"And you remembered that house. From where?" Mycroft remained silent. "Answer me!" he snapped.  
"I think I lived there." he whispered, not looking at Sherlock.  
"No, you didn't."  
"Could you leave me alone?" he tried to get further away from Sherlock.  
"Not until you answer my questions."  
"Please." Sherlock pulled him up.  
"Tell me!"  
"Sherlock!" Greg yelled at him from the door. "Let him go! Now!"  
"He drew our house Lestrade! How could he know about it?"  
"Let go of him, now!" Sherlock released Mycroft who used the opportunity to run out of the flat.  
"No, wait Mycroft! Sherlock with me!" Greg ran after him. "We have to find him!"  
"Lestrade..."  
"No Sherlock, you find him now, as quickly as possible. He can't be left alone." Greg walked the streets calling his name loudly.  
"I found him." Sherlock bored voice made Greg stop.  
"Where?"  
"In that." he pointed at a dumpster; Greg quickly opened it. "There you are! I was so worried Mycroft, come." he took his hands to pull him out; Mycroft pushed his hands away violently. Greg stepped back with hands in the air. "Sorry, I forgot. Please Mycroft get out of the bin." Sherlock grabbed him and pulled him out. "Here you go Lestrade, you better get another boyfriend."  
"He's not...Mycroft don't!" Greg yelled, but Mycroft was already on Sherlock pinning him to the ground, his fingers around his neck. "Mycroft, let go of him now; this is an order!" he said sternly, he was surprised to see that he obeyed. "Come here!" Mycroft sat to his legs. "Are you all right Sherlock?" he sat up gasping for air.  
"What the hell was that?"  
"Sorry, I forgot. Stand up Mycroft, your hand." Greg took his hand. "We are going home now." he led him back to the flat. "Now sit." he pushed him to the chair. "You too Sherlock, I think you should look through all of his drawings and I make tea."  
"I think he should start with a bath." Sherlock frowned.  
"Okay, Mycroft go and take a shower, then come back." he stood up and left.   
Sherlock looked through the other drawings.   
"This is our house Lestrade, I play the violin, we went to this lake when I was young, this was my dog!"  
"Father was allergic to them." Mycroft came back.  
"Sit down please." Greg put a mug in front of him. "I'm sorry Mycroft..."  
"It’s understandable Gregory. It was Victor's dog, you went over every day after school."Mycroft turned back to Sherlock.  
"I don't understand, I don't like not understanding." his eyes jumped between the two of them.  
"Well Mycroft was taken from home when he was three, he just ran away from an institution he was kept since that. He only remembers that he had two siblings; a sister who visited him occasionally and a brother who he hasn't seen in 14 years, but he has blue eyes and black curly hair. He doesn't know his last name; he had to call his sister Ma'am. They turned him into this; an obedient murderous slave. Their methods were everything but normal." Greg stood up and poured more tea to Mycroft's mug. "He was taken after Victor was killed, according to him it was his sister and she told everybody else that it was him. Later I guess his parents were told that he died so they could use him for whatever they wanted, literally. He is clever, even more than you." Mycroft kept his eyes on his mug.  
"I don't have a brother, I had a dog!" he whispered, stood up and stormed out.  
"I think we found your brother Mycroft. Sorry he's not the saviour you hoped for. I give him cases, new or dead ones to keep him clean. I'm sorry; but he might be able to help." Mycroft looked up with tears in his eyes.  
"He didn't believe you, he will go and talk to her, she'll know; she'll come for me!" he wiped down his tears. "I don't want to go back there!"  
"I know, I know." Greg remained silent for a while. "You are leaving." he stood up.  
"Where to?"  
"We have a summer house..."  
"She'll know about it, she'll look for me there!"  
"I get you checked into a hotel."  
"I...I don't think I can manage on my own."  
"You have to, you learn quickly you said it yourself. I'm sorry, but if he really talks to her..."  
"Where?"  
"Far."  
"Why can't you come with me?"  
"I have to work, it would be suspicious." the door opened again and Sherlock came back.  
"Please tell me you haven't talked with her." Greg asked immediately.  
"No."  
"Good." Greg sighed.  
"Tell him to look at me."  
"You can do it yourself."  
"Look at me!" Mycroft looked up. "Dad is allergic, a boy named Victor went missing..." he sat down. "Why would she do this?"  
"Because she didn't like that you had a friend and that you spent more time with him than her. So she drowned him."  
"Why did they believe her?"  
"People do what she says; I was a weird child, too clever for my age. I did things which made people question my intentions and my sanity; it wasn't that unbelievable. First I was in a normal mental institution but I after I tried to escape she arranged my death. She told me that mum and dad died because of me. For a long time I believed that I was a monster killing everyone around me...later they took me off the meds in order to train me and send me in supervised missions; that's when I started to remember; not much, but still remember things, like seeing her pushing Victor to the well, grabbing me and dangling over the water saying I’d end up there if I don’t stay quiet. Small things about you, our life..."  
"Mummy and dad are fine, home, sleeping. She was angry that I woke her with my call."  
"Oh...so they are not dead?"  
"You said you are clever." Sherlock raised an eyebrow.  
"Sorry." he looked back at his mug.  
"I still don't remember you though."  
"I don't remember much either."  
"Where were you all this time?"  
"In an island, in my cell."  
"And she went to see you?"  
"From time to time."  
"What is her name?"  
"I don't know."  
"Haven't you asked?"  
"I gave up after a while."  
"Why?"  
"If I did or said something against their wish I was punished."  
"So they trained you like a dog."  
"Dogs have it better." Greg mumbled.  
"Show me!" Mycroft got out of his clothes without a word.  
"Sherlock." Greg sighed. "Please get dressed Mycroft."  
"No, I want to see." Sherlock stepped closer; he extended his arm to touch him.  
"Don't do that Sherlock!" is hand stopped; he looked at Mycroft who stared at his hand with terror. "Now you saw it, let him get dressed."  
"But..."  
"Please."  
"Fine." he sat back.  
"You can dress up Mycroft." he got dressed.  
"Why do you look at him like that Lestrade?"  
"Because this shouldn't have happened to anyone; I heard more than you and it's horrible. It will take a very long time for him to get used to making his own decisions, not fearing everything and everybody, having a normal life."  
"What else is there? Tell me!" Mycroft opened his mouth.  
"No Mycroft, you go to sleep now and I talk with him."  
"It's early Lestrade, let him speak."  
"I said no."  
"You enjoy giving orders to him, finally someone who actually obeys."  
"No Sherlock, I do my best to try and get him make small decisions on his own, but for his sake this conversation ends."  
"Make him draw more." he stood up.  
"Sherlock, you can ask him nicely, he is your brother."  
"He's not!" he yelled. "Get him to draw more." he left again. Mycroft stood up too and went to the living room.  
"Are you all right?" Greg went after him.  
"I don't know." he whispered.  
"It's a bit much for him too, you turning up after a decade claiming that you two are brothers, accusing your sister..."  
"But it was her." he cut him off.  
"I know, I know, but he loves her, it's not easy to accept it. Are you hungry?" Mycroft nodded. "I get you something; you can eat here if you want."  
"Here?"  
"Why not?" he shrugged.  
"Okay." Greg smiled at him.  
Mycroft was curled up under the blanket when Greg came back.  
"Mycroft?" he put the plate to the table.  
"I should go, am I right? I mean..."  
"He won't tell it to her."  
"You don't know that!" Greg pulled the blanket off his head.  
"He got interested; he will do everything to get to the bottom of this."  
"I don't want to go back." Mycroft whined and wiped down his tears.  
"Shhh..." Greg put his hand on his head. "Shhh...it's going to be all right; promise." he stroked his hair. Mycroft stared at Greg with wide eyes, but at least he stopped crying. "I'll help you Mycroft; promise." Greg took his hand back.  
"Please." Mycroft whispered, Greg smiled and resumed stroking his hair. "Mummy used to do this, telling me stories."  
"Okay, I don't know much but..." Greg continued to stroke his hair telling him stories.

Mycroft sat up abruptly waking Greg who fell asleep sitting next to him on the floor.  
"What?"  
"Quiet!" Mycroft got up and hurried to the kitchen. "Stay!" he came back with knives.  
"Mycroft?" Greg asked with fear.  
"Gregory please." suddenly the door flew open. Greg took cover behind the sofa so he couldn't see what was going on, only hear the noises of struggling. When the noises died off he peeked out from behind the sofa. "Mycroft?" Mycroft was sitting by the wall covered in blood, there were four heavily armed men's body on the floor.  
"She found me!" he whispered shakily. "I don't...Please I don't want to go back!" his eyes jumped at Greg.  
"We are leaving!" Greg quickly packed a few things. "Put theses on." he placed shoes in front of Mycroft and helped a long pullover on him. "It'll cover it for now. Come on!" he stepped out of the flat. "Mycroft come with me, now!" he turned back to the frozen Mycroft. "Do you want to go back?"  
"No."  
"Then hurry up." Mycroft followed him to the car. Greg stopped hesitantly in front of it.  
"Gregory?"  
"I'm not sure if we should take my car or steal one; both would be suspicious."  
"Yours then when we are far enough we change it." Mycroft took the keys from him and got to the wheel.  
"Where are we going?" Greg got in.  
"I don't know."  
"But..."  
"We have to get far away from here."  
"All right." Greg sighed.

 

Greg woke up hearing a car horn. "Mycroft!" he yelled and grabbed the wheel.  
"Oh..." Mycroft woke up and took the wheel from him. "I'm sorry."  
"Park the car!"  
"Not here."  
"Do it now!"  
"It's too dangerous, there's a town coming up." Greg's eyes kept jumping between the road and Mycroft.  
"I'm so sorry Gregory, I...I think I fell asleep." Mycroft parked the car.  
"You think?"  
"Sorry." he mumbled.  
"Well nothing happened, we are all right." he sighed. "Hungry?"  
"Yes."  
"Okay, but you have to get changed before we go anywhere." Mycroft looked at his blood soaked clothes.  
"I had no other choice." he looked at Greg. "I had to..."  
"I know." Mycroft took off the pullover and his top. "Oh..."  
"What is it? I can't get changed otherwise now, sorry."  
"You have a cut on your arm."  
"It's not a cut Gregory, I was stabbed. See!" he held his arm in front of his chest where the stab wound continued. "It's not deep, don't worry."  
"Don't worry, it went through your arm!"  
"I can take care of it, I just need a few things." Mycroft got changed.  
"Pharmacy then. Let me drive now." not long after Greg parked the car. "I think you should see a doctor."  
"NO!" Mycroft looked at him sternly.  
"All right, all right; tell me what to get."  
"I get it." Mycroft got out of the car.  
"Fine, but you need money, hence me." he followed him. Mycroft quickly collected everything, and Greg asked for few more of each of them.   
"What? It will it be enough for a few days at least." he answered Mycroft unasked question, he nodded. "We also need painkillers."  
"I had worse." he mumbled.  
"I don't care; that is not normal."  
"Where now?" Mycroft looked around the street scanning everyone.  
"We need to eat and sleep, so we should find a hotel or something."  
"But we have to leave, she'll find us."  
"You need to sleep, you won't tell me where are we going so I can't even drive. Just one night, promise. Anyways we should change cars."  
"Okay." Mycroft finally agreed.


	4. Chapter 4

Greg got themselves checked in.  
"Now let me see your arm."  
"I can do it." Mycroft closed the bathroom door behind himself.   
"Can I leave you alone for a little bit Mycroft? I need to go to the shop to get a few things."  
“What?”  
“Food for the road, toiletries, some clothes maybe.”  
“Why?”  
“So we don’t have to stop so often.”  
“Why?”  
“Because we are on the run.” Greg chuckled.  
"Will you come back?"  
"Yes. And I will not call anyone; promise." Mycroft looked out.  
"I know, you could have done that days ago."  
"Be right back." 

"Mycroft it's just me." Mycroft came out of the bathroom. "Everything all right?"  
"Yes."  
"You don't look like it."  
"I'm tired."  
"Then to bed with you."  
"But I'm hungry, it's your fault."  
"Why?"  
"You made me got used to eating a lot." Greg rolled his eyes.  
"Let's go then."  
"Out?"  
"Well yes."  
"They are looking for us."  
"I figured, but we need to eat."  
"I still can't eat properly."  
"No need, I saw a pizza place down the street; you can eat with your hands."  
"All right." Greg knew that the only reason Mycroft agreed was because he was exhausted, not able to think properly.   
"Why are you anxious Gregory?"  
"Why, why? We are running from people who can make people disappear and...god knows what else."  
"And?"  
"You are tired, I'm just worried how you'll react surrounded by people." he mumbled.  
"Oh...You can stop me if I do something I shouldn't. Turns out I listen to you."  
"You don't listen to everyone?"  
"No."  
"I thought they ordered you to do it and you do."  
"I try to close myself off when I have to do something I wouldn't want to and then not everybody can reach me."  
"Like with the four men?"  
"Yes."  
"And what about the one with Sherlock?"  
"I was already scared to death then he grabbed me, I panicked and...I learned that I have to fight if I want to stay alive. Oh..." Mycroft stopped abruptly in front of the door.  
"Too much people?"  
"Yes." he whispered.  
"It'll be fine, blending into the crowd; no one will look at us. See there is a table in the corner, we can see everybody who comes in and it's close to the kitchen, which must have a back door. " Greg pulled him in.  
"You are not as stupid as you think." Mycroft grabbed Greg's arm when someone stepped to them.  
"Table?"  
"Yes, we'd like that one in the corner."  
"Anything to drink?"  
"Tea, with a big pot if possible."  
"I'll see."  
"She looked at us strangely, you shouldn't ask for tea." Mycroft whispered, scanning the room.  
"You want it don't you?"  
"I don't want them to look at us."  
"Well that I can't arrange, but you haven't drunk anything all day long." she came back.  
"Will this do?" she put the pot to the table  
"Thank you. And we'd like a number 3 and two plates."  
"Sure."  
"One?"  
"Yes My, what you call eating much is nothing. I don't want you to get a stomach ache."  
"Why did you call me My?"  
"I figured you don't want me to call you on your full name in public."  
"Thank you, and in the hotel?"  
"We are Greg and Mike Smith, brothers."  
"We look nothing alike."  
"Different fathers." he shrugged. "No one cares anyways. Now drink your tea."  
"How long till it’s ready?" Greg smiled.  
"It depends, there are lots of people here so it might be a while."  
"Do you have paper and pencil?"  
"No, why?"  
"I remembered something."  
"I see what I can do."  
"Crayons?" Mycroft raised an eyebrow when he came back.  
"This or nothing; sorry."  
"Thank you." Mycroft took it from him and started to draw, Greg watched him as he worked. It seemed like the world stopped existing for him, his auburn hair fell to his face, but he wasn't bothered by it, his long fingers tightly clutching the crayon. After a while he started to hum a melody Greg never heard. Greg quickly made the cutlery disappear, but Mycroft didn't even realise it; he dropped the crayon when the plates was put to the table.  
"It's okay My, nothing happened." Greg said in a calm voice. "Just the food." he took a few deep breaths then nodded. The waitress smiled at him.  
"Nice drawing." Mycroft quickly hid the papers. "Sorry." she looked at Greg. "You from around here then."  
"Why?"  
"The cave he draw it's just a few miles from here; bit of a climb; nice spot. We went there a lot when I was young." she had to go.  
"My?"  
"It wasn't intentional Gregory."  
"So we are going home."  
"Looks like."  
"Eat now, be careful it's still hot!" Greg warned him.

"Emily." Greg smiled at the waitress. "Do you know the Holmes family?"  
"Which part?"  
"The ones that moved away after the fire."  
"Oh them, it was a pity that house was beautiful."  
"You've been there?"  
"My mother was friends with Mrs. Holmes."  
"They have two kids..."  
"Three, one died; the youngest."  
"I see, it must be hard on them."  
"I only saw them once after that, they were pretty devastated."  
"Do you remember his name?"  
"Why do you ask?"  
"I'm friends with Sherlock."  
"Sherlock." she chuckled. "We were classmates...I rather don't say anything."  
"The girl?"  
"Eurus, she was scary. I hated the visits because of her; so I rather went over to Victor's with Sherlock."  
"You knew him too?"  
"Classmate as well, Sherlock didn't tell you about him?"  
"He doesn't remember him, it must be because of the trauma."  
"They were very close; his parents were looking for him for years. They gave up by now."  
"And the youngest."  
"Mycroft, he was an odd one. He was clever more than his sister only at age two. He always came after us, asking questions, wanting to get Sherlock's attention, impress him, get him to be proud of him; Sherlock was annoyed by it of course. He was so cute, poor thing." she sighed.  
"Where was the house?"  
"It still stands, I mean what remained of it." she took a paper from the pile. "The address." she frowned.  
"What is it?" Greg asked, she handed him the paper, still looking at them strangely.  
"That's me." she whispered pointing at one of the figures on the paper.  
"Thank you for your help." Greg quickly stood up. "We have to go now, my brother has to take his medication." he left a big tip, gathered the papers and pulled Mycroft out of the restaurant.  
"I take back what I said before; that was unwise Gregory."  
"Sorry, but now we know almost everything. I'm sorry but I don't think we should stay, now that I know where we are going I can drive and you can sleep on the backseat."  
"I agree."  
"Wait here!" Greg quickly came back with the bag. "It's good that I brought your blanket."  
"Why bring it?"  
"I'm not entirely sure; it was a bit chaotic, I even took tea." he shook his head.  
"I don't mind." Mycroft settled on the backseat. "Wake me when we get there." he mumbled.  
"Sure."

Greg pulled over when Mycroft rolled down from the backseat, he didn't even wake. Greg debated to wake him or try to get him back to the seats; finally he decided to do the second. He gathered Mycroft with difficulty and put him back to the seat, he picked up the blanket but stopped looking more closely at the sleeping Mycroft.  
"I can feel you staring Gregory." Mycroft startled him.  
"Sorry." he mumbled. "I didn't mean to." he covered him with the blanket.   
"You want me." Mycroft opened his eyes.   
"I...no Mycroft."  
"It's fine with me."  
"No Mycroft it's not. I'm sorry I was staring, I couldn't help it, you do look..." he trailed off. "Promise me you won't let anyone do that to you."  
"So I can't have sex?"  
"Once you get older and fell in love; then you can do what you want with whom you want. But only if you want it too."  
"Are we close?" Mycroft yawned.  
"No, we barely left the town I just stopped to put you back. Sleep now, I wake you when we got there."  
“Okay.” he mumbled.

"Mycroft! My! We are here!" Mycroft reluctantly opened his eyes. "We are here!" he just whined. "I know you are tired, but we got home." Mycroft sat up and looked out of the window. "Oh..."  
"What now? Are we going in?"  
"Yes." Mycroft was very pale; Greg followed him to the house.  
"Are you sure it's safe to go in?"  
"Yes." Mycroft's voice was barely above whisper. He walked through the house naming the rooms, telling little details to Greg. He stopped in the middle of a room.  
"This was my room." he looked around. Greg caught him just in time when his legs gave up.  
"I'm here My, I've got you." he lowered him to the ground. Mycroft was tightly clutching his pullover as his tears fell. "Shhh...shhh Mycroft; I'm here, it's okay." he stroked his hair. "We should go." Mycroft just whined. "Okay, we wait then..." After a while Mycroft's head shot up. "It's okay My."  
"Someone is in the house." he whispered.  
"You stay here and I check it."  
"No!"  
"Fine." Greg took out his gun and they cautiously went downstairs from where the noises were coming.  
"John?"  
"Hello Greg." Greg lowered the gun.  
"What on earth are you doing here?"  
"Sherlock dragged me along to this trip."  
"And what did he say, why are you coming here?"   
"He said that his brother is your boyfriend."  
"He doesn't want me." Mycroft mumbled from behind Greg.  
"Shut up, both of you!" Greg snapped. "Where is Sherlock?"  
"Garden."  
"Could you check his arm John, he was stabbed."  
"You promised..." Mycroft whispered.  
"I know, no doctor, but he's not a doctor, not yet." Greg turned to face Mycroft. "Am I getting back my not so stupid status?" he smiled.  
"You, not stupid?" Sherlock snorted. "Don't be ridiculous Lestrade. What were you two doing?" he looked at them with suspicion.  
"Nothing! What are you doing here Sherlock?"  
"Looking for you."  
"Who is the idiot now? They came for him..."  
"And you ran away with your own car."  
"I didn't matter, they could find us anyways. And until today we didn't know where we were going. We have to leave now. Tell me you didn't talk to her!"  
"I just asked her cautiously."  
"Idiot!" Greg turned when John cried out.  
"He bit me!" Mycroft was already out of the room; Greg hurried after him.  
"Mycroft, Mycroft!" he stopped at the back door looking around the garden hesitantly. "Great!" he mumbled. "Sherlock, come here now!"  
"What now?" he sighed.  
"Where do you think he went?"  
"How would I know?"  
"He is your brother; he must have a place where he liked to go; think!"   
"I have no idea! He's not my brother!"  
"Then why did you come here, why ask her? We met a girl, she was your classmate; yours and Victor's. She knew Mycroft, but according to her he died." Sherlock walked away from them, stopped between the tombstones; then he started to walk towards the woods.  
"Come." Greg whispered to John. "How much do you know?"  
"That you have his brother."  
"So now he is his brother." he mumbled.  
"What was it?"  
"Nothing, nothing. He just bit my head off when I suggested that they might be related."  
"Can't you keep down?" Greg almost bumped into Sherlock.  
"Sorry. Do you know where is he? He still can't be left alone...not after you talked to her."  
"She told me he's like that." Sherlock turned back looking at Greg with pity.  
"What did you just say?" Greg turned pale.  
"Making everybody fall for him, they feel sorry for him and when they don't watch he kills them without a second thought. That is why he had to be removed from the first institution, he made a doctor like him, pity him and when she sneaked him out he killed her whole family; he was five years old Lestrade. Five! He can't be trusted, he is too dangerous."  
"Bullshit! Have you asked her why was he conditioned to be like that? Why was he taught military tactics, martial arts, how to use anything as a weapon? Why did she make him dangerous; a slave at her command?"  
"She didn't do any of that to him, she just made sure that he was safe not being able to hurt anyone else or himself; still they couldn't always prevent it."  
"Sure with what? He was kept in an empty cell!" Greg stepped back. "How do you explain his knowledge?"  
"He read it in books."  
"Have you seen what he did to the four men in my flat, and the ones we found by the car? He can't learn that from books!"  
"Don't worry Lestrade, he'll be back where he belongs, mummy won't have her heart shattered again and you'll forget about him. Have you slept with him?"  
"No!"  
"But you want to. You really fell for him, it's worse than we thought." Greg looked around and chose a direction. "Run if you want, it'll make no difference. We'll find you." he yelled after him. Greg didn't turn back, he didn't know where he was, where Mycroft could be. He called Mycroft's name worriedly, but there was no answer. He was out for hours when he stopped in front of an info board. "The cave!" the sun started to go down, but he decided to climb the trail never the less. It was cold and dark even with the small flashlight he kept tripping. "Mycroft, it's me Greg!" he whispered when he got to the cave. "It's just me Greg, are you here?"  
"Gregory?"  
"Yes, I'm so sorry. Sherlock talked with her, he wants to take you back."  
"NO!"  
"Shhh, I won't let him, promise. He tried to tell me that you learned how to kill from books and that you hurt yourself."  
"I didn't!" he came closer.  
"I know don't worry My."  
"How did you know I was here?"  
"I was lucky. My guess was the well which I don't know where is but then I found the board and remembered your drawing."  
"I'm cold." Mycroft whispered.  
"No wonder." Greg sighed seeing that his clothes were wet. He took off his pullover and handed to him. "Put this on. What should we do now? They are already looking for us, I'm sure of it."  
"There is a cabin further up; few hours if the map is accurate."  
"It's too dark."  
"I know, but it's dry."  
"Few hours." Greg sighed. "You're barely standing on your feet."  
"Please Gregory." Mycroft took his hand.  
"I don't think my torch will last."  
"We just have to hope. Hurry, we have to get far away from them.” Mycroft pulled him under the bushes before a helicopter turned up.   
"We can't go to the cabin." Greg whispered.  
"No."  
"Where then?" Mycroft stood up and pulled Greg keeping off the trail. "Mycroft? Please where are we going?" Mycroft stopped.  
"I don't know." he whispered. "I'm so sorry Gregory, but I have no idea." Greg pulled him to a hug.   
"Well then we stop for the night and decide in the morning."  
"We can't...It's going to rain. We have to get to the cabin."  
"We agreed that..." Mycroft slipped from his arms. "Mycroft!" Greg called his name before the world went black.


	5. Chapter 5

"NO!" Mycroft sat up. "No, no, NO!"  
"Shut up." Eurus was standing on the other side of the glass.  
"No!" Mycroft whined then cried out when he got shocked. He tried to get the collar off his neck.  
"Don't touch it!" he got another shock. "A week and you forget everything. Who's the clever one now?" she chuckled; he just glared at her hatefully. "You want to know what happened to your precious boyfriend I guess." she looked at him with a bored expression. "Well we had no other choice than to keep him here for his sake; until your effect wears off."  
"No, please don't hurt him." Mycroft hurried to the glass.  
"I’m not going to do anything to him; you will." she smiled an evil smile. "I'm surprised you chose him; he is a moron...but after all you were always so slow and predictable." she walked away. Mycroft tried to get off the collar, but he was shocked every time he touched it; he didn't give up and tried until he passed out.

"I know you are awake." Dr. M's voice broke the silence. "Sit up." Mycroft didn't obey. "I said sit up!" he was shocked again. "It's worse than I thought." he sighed. "Sit up now!" Mycroft laid still waiting for the next shock, but his eyes flew open when he heard Greg cry out.   
"Gregory!" he whispered.  
"Now that I got your attention, sit up." Mycroft sat up. "I hope we don't have to start everything from the beginning."  
"No Dr. M." he sat to his place keeping his eyes on the ground.  
"Good; now a little practice to see how much you forgot. See him?" he pointed at Greg who was curled up in the corner, two armed guards standing by his sides.  
"Yes Dr. M."  
"Get me a finger."  
"No." Mycroft looked at him.  
"Your only answer must be which one."  
"No!" Mycroft repeated it.  
"All right." he stepped to Greg. "Then I kill him." he took out his gun.  
"NO!" Mycroft got up from his place, he collapsed back when he was hit on the face with a gun.  
"Then do as you are told! Get me a finger." he smiled coldly. Mycroft pushed himself to his hands and knees and made his way towards Greg, but before he reached him he quickly grabbed Dr. M and before the guards could react he bit off one of his fingers.  
"There you go." he spit it in front of him. "A finger." he sat to the wall; Dr. M was tightly clutching his hand. "Sebastian!" he yelled and left leaving Moran and two others behind; Mycroft went very still.  
"Stand up!" he ordered him, Mycroft stood up and stepped to him not looking at the man, trying really hard not to shake. "I missed you." Sebastian stroked his face, Mycroft whimpered. "Shhh, remember I love quiet." he took off the collar and stroked his neck. Mycroft was shaking he looked around for help. "Checking if your lover is watching?" the other guard pulled Greg up and forced him to look at them, Mycroft's stomach twitched seeing the sate he was in.  
"I'm so sorry Gregory." Moran's hold tightened around his neck closing off his airways.   
"Quiet!" he took out his knife with his other hand and touched the point of it to his nose. "If I'd known you like being watched..." he moved the knife down his face, scraping it. Mycroft cried out when he got to his shirt and started to cut it off wounding him during the process. "Shhh..." Mycroft tried his best to stay quiet as he cut down wounding his chest and stomach and thigh. "Now let's get you out of these rags." Mycroft got undressed and closed his eyes. "No, no eyes open!" Mycroft opened them. "There. You know what to do now." He laid to his stomach pulled up his legs; his arms extended in front of him; he knew the routine pretty well. He tried to give out as little noise as he could when Moran hit his hand with the stick, he continued down his body ordering Mycroft to keep quiet but he couldn't. He stopped reaching the end of his spine, Mycroft tightly closed his eyes, he tried to hold back his tear, but if it wasn't enough what Moran was doing to him, Greg was made to watch it which made it even worse. Moran only touched him like this; he loved hearing him whimper and scream which he usually could manage not to do; but not now. Now his tears were falling, sobs leaving his mouth uncontrollably. He hear that he unbuckled his belt Mycroft could hear his groans as he enjoyed himself, then everything went silent and something dropped to the ground. Mycroft opened his eyes when someone stroked his hair.  
"Mycroft." Greg said softly. "Get dressed." Greg put clothes in front of him. "Hurry."  
"But..."  
"Get dressed now!" Greg pulled him up and tried to force the uniform on him. "Come on." he said sternly, getting him dressed no matter how much he didn’t help.  
"But..." he looked around, Moran was laying on the ground, there was another body dressed in his clothes, Greg already got changed and was talking to the other man dressed as a guard too.  
"Act like we belong, don't talk!" Greg put the mask and helmet on him.  
"The cameras." he whispered.  
"Not working at the moment."  
"How do you know?"  
"You told me, they don't want to have any evidence of you being hurt."  
"Oh...yes you are right."   
"Grab him and keep your head down." they picked up the unconscious Moran and walked out of the cell.  
"The little freak is uncontrollable." Mycroft quickly recognised Sherlock's voice. "It would be better to shoot him." Moran was taken from them. "He's out for now. If you excuse us we need tea after this."  
"Sure, we call you if needed!"  
"Thanks." they followed Sherlock through the corridors.   
"Where to?" a guard asked.  
"To get a hand surgeon, the little pet bites."  
"You fly?"  
"Yep."  
"Sign here, when are you coming back?"  
"In an hour, he's already waiting."  
"And needs three of you to get him?"  
"Trainee, not my idea."  
"Go ahead." once they were in the air Mycroft opened his mouth to speak, but Greg quickly covered it and shook his head.

Greg helped Mycroft out of the helicopter. "Gregory?" Mycroft asked immediately.  
"Sherlock will come back later, don't worry. Come on John needs to look at you." he started to pull him towards the village. Mycroft followed him in silence feeling exhausted and overwhelmed by the quick turn of events.  
"Greg!" John looked at them with a horrified expression when they got to the surgery. "Jesus come in quickly, I think you should go to the hospital."  
"No can do, you know it perfectly well. Take care of him first."  
"No way, you look worse. Sit!" John ordered Mycroft. He sat down trying to suppress a cry; Greg ignored John and pulled Mycroft up.  
"Gregory..." he whispered.  
"I'm here, we got out."  
"But how?"  
"Sherlock."  
"He was the one..."  
"I know, I'm so sorry they were just suddenly there, I couldn't do anything; I was out before I could say a word."  
"Of course."  
"Sherlock sneaked in to see me, he said that he wants to help because he realised that he was wrong. He said he's sorry."  
"I'm so sorry Gregory, I'm so sorry that they hurt you. Let John look at you now."  
"No, no, you first."  
"I had worse." Mycroft mumbled.  
"Don't care." he took his hand and pulled him closer.  
"It's really nothing..."  
"Just a long cut on your front, broken ribs huge bruises, your neck, the cut on your face, god knows how's your heart after being electrocuted so many times, arms, ankles and..."   
"It wasn't the first time."  
"I figured." he mumbled. "Now please let John take care of you." he cupped his face with his free hand. "Please My. I stay with you if that's what you want." Mycroft turned his eyes down, Greg could feel his tears on his hand. "I'm so sorry My." he pulled him to a hug.  
"I...I...he..." he sobbed.  
"You don't have to say anything."  
"He was the worse." he whispered to his shoulder. "It was even worse that you saw it...usually I could manage, but knowing that you were watching...I just...I feel so ashamed and..."   
"This wasn't your fault My, not your fault." Greg gently stroked his back; John sighed and rolled his eyes.   
"Could you continue it at another time?"  
"Please John; just a few minutes." John kept drumming on the table.  
"I'm okay, I'm all right." Mycroft wiped down his tears.  
"No you are not; but I'm here, I'll help.” he smiled at him.  
“Thank you.”  
“Now you first!"  
"Whatever." John wanted to get him undressed but he changed his mind. "You do it, he bit me the last time." Greg took off his clothes.  
"Oh..." John's eyes grew wide seeing the deep cut all the way down and the already colouring huge bruises. "It's just a small surgery I can't do much." he worked in silence. Mycroft kept his eyes on Greg during it.  
"Now your turn Greg."  
"There is more." he helped the shirt back on Mycroft.  
"Gregory..." Mycroft whispered.  
"I'm sorry My, but he has to see it. Here." he took a sheet and covered him. "Better this way?" Mycroft shook his head. "I know you don't want this, but for me please...I'd feel more at ease." he sighed and got out of his pants too. John looked at Greg questioningly, Greg leaned close and whispered to his ear. "What?" John exclaimed; Mycroft buried his face.  
"Turn to your side My and just look at me; I'm here I'll make sure that John doesn't do anything to you. I don't say it won't hurt..." Mycroft grabbed his hand. "I'm here, I'm here." he stroked his hair. "Open your eyes My, please; just keep looking at me." he talked to him while John examined him.  
"All right, nothing too serious. Now you Greg." 

"Why aren't you ready?" Sherlock arrived.  
"Because your brother confessed his love to Greg. Once this is over both of them have to go to the hospital."  
"Where are we going?" Greg asked.  
"Get changed." he handed him clean clothes.  
"Why?"  
"Just get ready quickly." he went back to the car.  
"Do you trust him?" Greg asked Mycroft while he helped him get dressed.  
"Yes."  
"Good, I don't know where are we going, I have no idea what he's planning."  
"We are going to see mummy."  
"How do you know?"  
"Clothes."  
"How do you feel about it?"  
"Nervous, scared...what if they don't believe him, what if they don't want me like this?"  
"You are their son, no matter what they'll love you. If not then you'll stay with me." he smiled at him. "Let's go then."  
"Finally, you drive Lestrade. John; sit with him." Sherlock was anxiously waiting by the car.  
"Nope." he got in front. "He is your brother you sit with him." Mycroft was quickly out resting his head on Sherlock's thigh.   
"What's wrong with him?" Sherlock asked after hours of Mycroft not moving a bit.  
"He is exhausted and I gave him quiet a lot of painkiller."  
"How’s he going to talk to mummy?"  
"With my mouth." Mycroft mumbled.  
"You got your clothes wrinkled, she won't like it."  
"I think that will be the least of her concerns brother mine."  
"Here we are." Greg parked the car. They got out, but Mycroft didn't move.  
"Come on Mycroft." Sherlock took his hand. "You want this to end don't you?" Mycroft followed him not letting go of his hand.  
"Hello mummy."  
"Sherlock dear what a surprise, you brought John too."  
"Mrs. Holmes." John greeted her.  
"And who are they?"  
"DS Greg Lestrade, we work together from time to time."  
"And you?" Mycroft was hiding behind Sherlock.  
"He is Mycroft." Sherlock answered instead of him.  
"Mycroft..." she trailed off.  
"He is seventeen, he was separated from his family when he was three years old."  
"Oh..." Mycroft looked out from behind him. "But..." their mother mumbled.  
"She was lying to us."  
"This can't be true, no; no! He's not him!"  
"Just look at him."  
"Anybody can have the same colour of eyes and hair...Where was he all this time then?"  
"Closed up so she could use him..."   
Greg pulled John out of the living room. "Let them talk." they sat in the kitchen for hours.  
"Lestrade!" Sherlock yelled, Greg quickly went in. He saw Mycroft sitting in the corner he was shaking, covering his head.  
"What happened?"  
"Mummy tried to take his hand and he freaked out." Greg knelt next to Mycroft wrapping his arms around him when he leaned to him and stroked his hair.  
"He's exhausted in pain, being back there, the torture, add to that meeting his family after all these time; it's just too much for him. Being touched is a problem for him anyways, not to mention being touched by strangers."  
"She is our mother."  
"She is still a stranger to him, I know it's not easy for any of you but he needs time, and lots of patience. He needs to feel safe, loved, accepted, you'll have to explain and teach him lots of things, you'll have to reassure him that no one will hurt him, that no one will take him back there. I think he should rest now." he picked up Mycroft as gingerly as he could.  
"I show you the guest room." she stood up and led them to the room. "I better leave you now." she stepped back.  
"He just needs time Mrs. Holmes. He was really scared to come here; he was scared that you won't want him because of what they did to him."  
"My dear..." she extended his arm to stroke his hair, but stopped. "Of course we want to have you home Mycroft, we talk later. You are safe here, we won’t let anyone take you away, promise." she left them.  
Greg put him to bed, he turned to leave, but Mycroft grabbed his arm. He sat next to him.  
"You are safe here My; it's over."  
"Please Gregory..."  
"What is it? Hungry?"  
"No."  
"Thirsty?"  
"No."  
"What is it then?"  
"You need to rest too." Greg smiled at him.  
"You want me to stay?"  
"I...please."  
"Okay." he laid down, he was surprised when Mycroft snuggled closer to him. "Sleep now, we are safe." he wrapped his arms around Mycroft protectively. Mycroft sighed burying his face to his shirt.  
“She is my mother.”  
“I know, we found them.”  
“They want me.”  
“Who wouldn’t want you?” Greg chuckled.  
“You.”  
“Mycroft…” Greg sighed. “I’m your friend, I’m here for you, I’ll help you anyways I can. I really like you, truly; but you need time. You have to learn to live your life, to make decisions on your own and then if you still wish to be around me…we can get back to talk about it.”  
“Okay, promise?”  
“I…well…”  
“Sorry Gregory, I’m just tired, forget it. I’m sorry for saying it; you can’t promise your feelings won’t change.”  
“No.”  
“Promise me that if you don’t want to be around me you tell me. I don’t want you to feel that you have to stay, just because you found me.”  
“Promise. I want to be here now, I want to come back and spend more time with you; get to know you better.”  
“I need to get to know me too.”  
“We are here to help.” he kissed the top of his head.  
“What was that?”  
“I kissed the top of your head, sorry.”  
“No need.” he yawned. “Good night Gregory.”  
“Night My.”

Greg woke up to shouting; he opened his eyes to be met by Mycroft's blue eyes wide from terror.  
"She's here." he whispered.  
"Oh..." Greg swallowed hard.  
"You met her?"  
"I had the luck, yes."  
"I'm so sorry."  
"I know." Greg wrapped his arms around him. "She can't take you away; promise."  
"Please talk." Mycroft whispered.  
"Once upon a time..." Greg started a tale to distract him.

"You're up, good. Mummy was furious as you can imagine. John wants to see the both of you, also you need to eat. You were out for a day." Sherlock marched to the room after Eurus left.  
"A day?" Greg sat up.  
"Yes."  
"Could you watch him, I need to go to the bathroom." Sherlock nodded, he stood by the end of the bed looking at Mycroft, who did the same.  
"Mycroft." he cleared his throat.  
"Sherlock."  
"I'm sorry Mycroft."  
"What changed?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"One moment you follow her blindly the next you break in to rescue us."  
"I saw her after you were found; it was written all over her face, the fury, hatred, the fear of losing her slave...I could barely persuade her not to shoot Lestrade on the spot. Then I realised that she played me, so I knew what I had to do. I'm sorry about that; you know. I figured I wait till he was...distracted." he whispered.  
"It's understandable."  
"I'm sorry." he sat next to him.  
"What will happen to me now?"  
"You stay home with mummy and dad, they can look after you until you can stand on your own."  
"Promise me that Gregory can visit."  
"I promise, not that I could keep him away from you." he sighed. "Come, lunch is ready."  
"Is there tea?" Mycroft asked hopefully.  
"Yes." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "As much as you'd like."


End file.
